


Cockroach Pie

by Ealasaid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Again, Bugs & Insects, Crack, Curses, Gen, Humor, Pie, a misuse of tags, because I like Cat!Castiel, but also bugs, cat!castiel, general silliness, tagged for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ealasaid/pseuds/Ealasaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s cursed revisit of the ghost-fear-fever-thing was ridiculous. Cas’s curse, which he had walked right into a second after Dean had smacked his head into the fear-curse-spellwork—literally, since the damn witches had hung cursed Christmas tree ornaments or some shit around their basement—turned him into a black cat with fur long enough to rival Sam’s hair. Dean thought it would be hysterical if only Cas would stop using his new ninja cat skills to pop up and scare Dean in places that he did not expect the angel to be in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this post [http://liz-of-all-ladybirds.tumblr.com/post/34977902758/cupidsuqua-epikalia-owlwynn5-my-body].

As curses went, Dean’s was really not that bad. No, really, he could deal with a repeat of the ghost-fear-fever-thing again, it wasn't so bad. This only made him constantly terrified of random shit, not something that would kill him with a heart attack... or, uh, so they hoped. Wow he really hoped that did not happen, heart attacks were friggin’ scary. Like could you even imagine the horror of feeling your heart stop beating and sort of just explode inside your chest? Oh shit, why was his pulse kicking up oh shit, _oh shit—_ OW OW OW HIS HEA—that was not his heart, that was his hand, that was…

“Fuck, Cas, that hurt,” Dean growled at the freakishly fluffy black cat that had sunk its teeth into his hand. The cat looked at him reproachfully and let him go.

Dean’s curse was ridiculous. Cas’s curse, which he had walked right into a second after Dean had smacked his head into the fear-curse-spellwork—literally, since the damn witches had hung cursed Christmas tree ornaments or some shit around their basement—turned him into a black cat with fur long enough to rival Sam’s hair. Dean thought it would be hysterical if only Cas would stop using his new ninja cat skills to pop up and scare Dean in places that he did not expect the angel to be in.

Cas meowed at him in the same sort of deadpan confused way he normally used when interacting with Dean and Things That Dean Does, before gracefully hopping up onto the table Dean was sitting at. He took a moment to wash one of his front paws daintily before crouching down in the position that made him look like a fuzzy meatloaf as Dean struggled to contain himself.

“Yeah, yeah, I need to stop thinking about things that could happen,“ Dean grumbled at him. Which was stupid, because if there was one thing round one of this shit had taught him it was that not thinking about things was _hard,_ even if Sam had snickeringly commented on how Dean had so much practice at it already. If Dean was not currently horrified by his own guns, he would be field-stripping them to peacefully zone out. Now that he was terrified of everything, it was impossible to forcibly calm himself down.

Fed up with life, he dragged the box with the pie he bought before the witchs' lair trip across the table and popped open the lid. Fork in hand, Dean intended to demolish this heavenly goodness, as was his right for having a generally shitty day. Unfortunately, as soon as he flipped the lid off the box, Dean was confronted with the addition of a giant dead ugly cockroach that had somehow gotten stuck to one side of the pie.

“Eugh!” he exclaimed, and flinched before he could stop himself. Ugh, gross. Now his pie was ruined.

“This thing is disgusting,” Dean whined vaguely towards Cas, and poked the damn thing with his fork.

That was when it moved. Dean shrieked “ _Son of a bitch_ _!”_ and shoved the box away instinctively.

Cas looked at him quizzically. That bird-head tilt did not look the slightest bit out of place now that he was a cat.

“What?” Dean snapped defensively. “That thing is nasty and it ruined my pie.”

Cas purred soothingly at him, got up, and rubbed his fuzzy head against Dean's hand before turning his attention to the cockroach in the pie.

Dean took the opportunity and called up Sam, who apparently was not all that busy because he answered almost right away.

“Dude, you need to bring me another pie,” Dean said baldly before Sam could even say hello. “This one has a cockroach in it.”

“What?” Sam said, sounding confused and slightly tinny over the speakers.

“Yeah, man, there’s this big ugly bug right in the middle of my damn pie,” Dean snapped, leaning over to look at it again in time to see Cas reach a paw in and bat at it lightly. “I don’t know where—oh _shit, Jesus Christ on a stick it can fly oh my god._ ”

Dean swore the motherfucker had it out for him, because it smacked right in his face and even Dean could not pretend his scream was not girly. He whipped a hand at it as Cas meowed a frantic apology, and succeeded in hitting his own face as it promptly relaunched itself into the air.

“What’s going on?” Sam yelled at him over the phone. He sounded sufficiently alarmed to raise Dean's hysteria by proxy.

“It’s fucking _flying_ around the room _what the fuck_ ,” Dean screamed back, horrifiedly tracking the cockroach's progress and it flew around the room with a sinister buzz.

Cas stole the show by leaping heroically into the line of fire and smacking the bug out of the air. Dean swore he could see it happen in slow motion: the precisely aimed paw striking the cockroach into a tailspin and onto the floor like Cas was the star of his very own cheesy kung-fu movie.

Then Cas spoiled it a little by chomping the fucker down.

“Oh my god,” Dean gasped in amazement to Sam over the phone, hand to his chest and he did not even notice. He wheezed a little before he continued. “Oh my sweet baby Jesus okay. Okay, Cas just ate that bastard. _Oh my god_.”

“What?” Sam mostly just sounded really, really confused. “Dean—did you—Cas ate what?”

“It’s okay,” Dean panted, watching starry-eyed as Cas casually scratched behind one of his ears and shot Dean a look that said  _no big deal_. “Cas ate the cockroach. Dude, Cas is a badass when he’s a cat.”

Sam made some sort of strangled noise but did not actually say anything. He was probably struck dumb in awe at Cas’s awesome cat skills.

“Cas, you were awesome,” Dean said fervently. “That was—wait, are you okay?” Because now Cas's face was scrunched up and he was contorted in a funny shape and making coughing noises, and then there was this weird horking sound and—

“ _Why the fuck is it still alive THAT ISN’T FAIR!_ ”

“DUDE, OW!” Sam yelled in the phone. “I’m STILL HERE!”

Dean was back in hysterics. “ _The fucking cockroach is still fucking alive how is this fucking possible?!_ ” he screeched.

“ _Dean_ just smash it, _oh my god_. It’s just a cockroach!” There was a babble of muffled concern for which Sam broke off his admonitions to assure that everything was all right.

“You come here and smash it yourself, this fucking bug is _fucking immortal!_ ” Dean howled back, not caring who Sam was talking to or why. “Even Cas couldn’t kill it and that’s like fucking impossible because Cas can kill everything!”

“I’ll bring you a new pie,” Sam snapped, clearly fed up with the situation. “I've got to _go._ Try not to get killed by the bug.” He hung up.

Cas looked incredibly disgruntled and made some more gagging noises, looking fairly unconcerned that there was a fucking bug god a few inches from his nose.

Dean was caught, gaze locked on the pitiful twitching mess on the carpet. It started crawling a little dazedly away from where Cas had thrown it back up, and Dean whimpered, failing miserably at daring himself to just stomp on it already. When the cockroach flicked open its wings, Dean flinched and skittered back a few steps, before moaning in horror, turning back around, and snatching Cas up to sprint for the bathroom.

He slammed the locks in place behind the door as Cas loudly complained about the manhandling.

“Okay,” Dean said shakily, half-crushing the wriggling cat in a stupid little hug that would have Sam laughing at him for weeks over. “Okay," he repeated, "we’re good. It can’t get in here.”

There was a small thump at the door.

Dean yelped and dove into the tub. He did not move from his huddled position until Sam came back two hours later with a pie in one hand and his shoe in the other.


	2. Epilogue

Sam presented Dean with several lollipops containing assorted creepy crawlies a couple weeks later when a case involving a chupacabra in southern Arizona found them in a tourist trinket shop outside a quaint, historically preserved town square.

"I hate you," Dean growled, and threw them in the back seat.


End file.
